Make Me
by Tempered In Fire
Summary: Naru fades in the background when she realises acknowledgment is hollow when the people who praise you are the same who once shunned you for who you are. Sasuke mourns the supposed death of his best friend until, an old man visits Hatake Kakashi, and fate reunites the most broken trio of Anbu it can find - In a school of witchcraft and wizardry to boot. Femnaru. SasuNaru.
1. Politics are Vital

**Chapter One**

**_In which there is politics, and a bit of emotional black mail._**

* * *

Kakashi stared the old man in the eye. "If you want my best, you can have them, but keep in mind, Dumbledore-san, they are Shinobi, veterans of war, warriors and soldiers. They do not tolerate weakness of any kind. Treat them with respect, and they will treat you with the same. Pity them or attempt to commandeer them ... Well, let's just say, I won't be held accountable for their actions."

The wizard chuckled, straightening his beard with a withered, wrinkled hand. "I understand, Kakashi-san. They are highly skilled and should be treated as such, and they are solely under your command. Believe me when I say we will look after them."

Kakashi sighed, feeling more exhausted than he had since the end of the war nearly three years ago. He looked down at the three files laid down on the desk between them, each one a mission and psych records of his three best Anbu. Kakashi pushed them in front of Dumbledore. "Luckily for you, Konoha is in a time of peace and can spare her Elite. A few years ago, we would have had to turn you away." The younger man murmured, more to himself than the other. Dumbledore seemed to understand that this was not directed to him and remained quiet, though he allowed himself to ponder over what the other male had meant.

Noticing that the wizard had finished with the folders, Kakashi said, "If you are satisfied, we can get the contract signed and bring them in."

In reply, Dumbledore wordlessly supplied a writing quill from seemingly nowhere, ready to - although not quite sure - sign a contract that would legally bind him to three lethal soldiers for the next year. Various vaults in Gringotts would have to be drained to afford this, but no complaints had been voiced by the Order. All understood how vital this mission would be. Harry Potter needed protection. Hogwarts needed protection. The galleons paid were a small price compared to what it could be.

As the old wizard completed his signature with a flick of his quill, Kakashi signaled into a darkened corner of the office. "Stag!" He called. A tall man stepped out of the shadows, clad in black beneath white armor. His face was hidden behind a white porcelain mask, painted to depict a deer.

Dumbledore was impressed. He had not sensed the other presence in the room, or heard him move. He knew, however, that this was most likely a power-play. A flaunting of what Konoha had, and a reminder of what they could do. A warning, should the Wizarding world dare to cross them. Dumbledore was neither frightened nor insulted. He understood that this was merely politics, and he had no intentions of abusing the contract in front of him.

The shinobi knelt down besides Kakashi. "Hai, Hokage-sama?"

"Bring me these operatives." He ordered, tossing the folders to the Anbu, who caught them effortlessly.

"Hai."

The Anbu disappeared.

"Now, we wait."

* * *

Across the village, in the Anbu Headquarters, a red headed woman sat by herself in the Captains' lounge. She was seated stiffly at the table, watching those around her joke and mingle from behind her mask. She didn't want to be here, but it was an unspoken rule in the Corps that every now and again, any Anbu captains that weren't deployed met downstairs and relaxed; took the opportunity to complain about missions and clients and anything else that irked them at the time. It was usually around this time of the month that she had a convenient "mission" that took her far away from draining events like these.

Maybe she could sneak out while nobody was looking...

She liked that idea. There was a small window to her left she could easily slip out of before anyone could notice. She could be over the fence on her way to glorious ramen before they knew it. She was about to put it into action when a large, male hand thumped down heavily on the table before her. The red haired girl cursed, looking up at the man before her. He was unmasked, tanned. He was probably considered attractive to normal woman her age, with dark brown hair and mischievous brown eyes to match. She noted the red triangles on each of his cheeks. He was an Inuzuka. No doubt a branch member, judging by the way he tried to convey his dominance, with a hand perched on his hip, leering down at her. _Main branch members don't have to act dominant_. She thought idly. _They are natural predators. The dominance is just there._

"Hey there, beautiful." He said, raking his eyes up and down her frame. He made a low sound deep in his throat, apparently enjoying what he saw.

"For all you know, I could look like your dog's rear end." She said, pointing to the large black nin-dog sprawled besides the couch, "You never know what's under these masks."

He grinned at her, leaning down further into her space. "Well I guess not. But only pretty girls speak boldly like you do. More confidence, you know?"

"I'm not confident. Tolerant, sure, but that's not exactly a pretty girl's quality."

HIs smirk disintegrated into an annoyed frown. "If you took off your mask, I'd know for sure."

Behind her mask, the woman rolled her eyes. Could this idiot be anymore obtuse? Remove her mask? Yeah right. Not even if he put a kunai to her throat. In the few years she'd had this mask, she'd only removed it in her own home, away from the prying eyes of curious civilians and shinobi. And she had hardly ever gone home. The Kages had abolished many of the archaic rules regarding the shinobi ways, but the Hokage was firm in keeping elite shinobi anonymous, especially since many ninja - like her - believed they had lost their identity in the war.

"No can do, buddy. It's the second Anbu directive. Right after the one that says the Hokage's word is law. I'm pretty sure he's the one that said that an Anbu mask is to be worn at all times." She clucked her tongue in annoyance, turning in her seat so that her back was positioned to him.

"Look, I'm just trying to do you a favor." He sneered darkly. "No one knows you. As far as we know, you belong to no clan. You've never been to the academy. You have never been part of a Genin or Chuunin squad." He stalked around her chair until he could bend into her space. His brown eyes demanded an answer. Who is this girl?

If only he knew.

"What's your point?" She was getting annoyed pretty quickly, and a voice inside her head was urging her to hand him his ass already so she could leave, but she felt his temper boiling beneath his pushy demeanor. His Chakra pulsed to the beat of it. This had probably been bothering him for months.

"My point is that because no one here knows who you are, no one here trusts you." He said simply.

She looked around the room slowly, noticing that the chatter had seized. There were nearly forty Anbu in the room, most of which were unmasked, all of which were silent and pointedly not looking in their direction had probably been eavesdropping for a while now, she concluded, irked.

She knew that after the war, trust had been a major issue throughout the Elemental Nations, and her enigma-like presence had not been well accepted. Popular rumors suggested that she was perhaps a refugee who had found asylum here after the war. Speculation considered her to be from Mizu no Kuni because of her red hair, but Mizu had no academy to have produced such a fine ninja, and her fighting style - one heavily based on Kenjutsu - suggested Kumo. At first, they had tried to welcome her into the Corps, had fought to dig up whatever comradeship they had after the war nearly three years ago, but the kunoichi didn't want to show the same in return. She pushed them away with a cold shoulder, preferring to keep herself and her identity separate from the prying eyes of the Anbu, and climb the ranks of the Hunter Division. She left a chasm between herself and the other operatives...

For a moment, she felt insulted at their lack of trust. Without her, the war would have never stopped. Madara and Obito would have had them all wrapped around their slimy Uchiha fingers, and they, Konoha's Elite couldn't trust her? She had saved all these lives and they didn't even know it...

In the back of her mind she heard his chuckle; a deep rumble like thunder after lightning. _**That's what you wanted, wasn't it? To fade into anonymity**_. She hated it when he was right, which was becoming more and more frequent these days._** Reap what you sow, Kit.**_

It isn't like she needed a reminder.

Turning her focus back to the matter at hand, she shifted back in her chair, leaning until the frame was on a tilt. She kicked her feet up on to the table to keep herself from toppling. With flippant air she said, "Good. You shouldn't trust me."

* * *

Sasuke rounded the bend in the corridor, annoyed.

The mission to Mist had been successful, if not taxing, with the constant rain hindering his tracking skills and progress. The task had been simple; to track down three Shinobi rebelling against the Allied Shinobi Forces, capture them, and deliver them to Mist Hunter Nin for interrogation and punishment. Little did he know that these three were masters of hiding and water jutsu, two traits that thrived in Water Country. The fight had left him in drenched armor and a foul move. All he wanted to do was eat in the Captains' lounge and have a warm shower before he filed his mission report and headed home.

The Uchiha had just turned the last corner with his ears picked up on the muted shouts and familiar ring of steel against steel. He sighed, inwardly vowing death to those who disturbed his peace and were quickly giving him a migraine.

One of his lieutenants stood outside the door of the lounge, looking both put out and unsure, his Badger mask hanging from his belt. The brunette's expression quickly turned into one of relief when he spotted the Uchiha.

"Commander!" Badger cheered, saluting him. Sasuke looked at the door between them suspiciously.

"Are they playing-" his sentence was cut off by what could have been glass shattering against the door, "-cards again?" The last time the higher ups of Anbu had played, everyone's wages had been docked by ten percent to cover the damages made to the walls and furniture. The hell if Sasuke was paying for that shit again.

The lower Anbu shook his head. "An Inuzuka and a Hunter got into an argument and it escalated when the Inuzuka questioned the trust of the Hunter Nin," He explained.

Sasuke face-palmed his mask. "This happens way too much," He grumbled. "Which Hunter is it?"

Badger shrugged. "The Alpha squad's captain. The red-head that does the storage seals for the T&amp;I unit."

Sasuke frowned. He had occasionally seen the red headed woman slip down the halls in silence, or give orders to her squadron upstairs, but he didn't know her personally. "I didn't know we had any Fūin masters in Anbu." He said, skeptical. After all, the only Fūin master he knew was Naru, and she had disappeared after the war, assumed dead after she had accepted a mission to Tsuchi no Kuni.

His heart throbbed heavily at the last memory he had of the blonde jinchuuriki, although he couldn't remember her words precisely after the two years that had passed. _'Ne, Sasuke? You'll look after yourself now that you're back right?' He chuckled against her neck, the vibrations tickling the sensitive hollow there. 'When I've got you to look after me? Not a chance, dobe.'_ He pushed the old memory away. Remembering the past would only hinder his new goals and ambitions. He shoved his conscience back into the present.

There was another shrug from Badger, accompanied by a resigned head scratch. "Either way, you should probably go in there before it gets any worse." Sasuke nodded in understanding, pushing past the lieutenant.

Upon opening the door, Sasuke noted several things.

1.) Of the fifteen Captains present, none of them seemed to object to the obvious beating the Hunter kunoichi was delivering to the offending Inuzuka. They sat back in their chairs, weapons sheathed, watching with amused smiles, and even some even cheering for the girl.

2.) Why could he even see their grins, sly as they were? This was Anbu, and masks were compulsory. His eyes narrowed behind his Wolf mask. Words would be had with the slacking soldiers and the Hokage. His mind was already formulating suitable punishments.

3.) He was pretty sure that the only Inuzuka in the higher ranks was Kiba, and he was off-duty now that the Hyuuga girl he married was heavily pregnant. If that was the case, the idiot on the floor shouldn't even be in here, and thus, deserved the beating he was getting for provoking an operative that outranked him.

4.) The Kunoichi that stood above him looked oddly familiar, though completely foreign to him. And that interested Sasuke greatly.

The girl was angry, that much was certain. Sasuke grunted at the strength behind her kick, he'd stopped it with a forearm before she broke the rookie's face in. He felt her Chakra fluctuate, felt her confusion and anger; fading, but only to beneath the surface.

"That's enough". He said calmly.

The Hunter returned her leg to the ground.

Sasuke gestured to Badger by the doorway. "Take him downstairs to Sakura. Ask her to fix the break in his nose and get him cleaned up, and then bring him to my office for questioning." Badger and a by standing Captain stood the Inuzuka up, taking him beneath his arms downstairs. He waited until they disappeared to stand and address the others in the room.

Uchiha Sasuke, or rather, Anbu Commander Wolf, was not happy.

"What is the second Anbu directive?"

No one answered him, deciding to stare sheepishly at each other. He thought he'd have to repeat himself, for which he really wasn't in the mood for, until the red headed Hunter sighed, flopping down into her chair.

"Anbu, in order to protect their identities from enemy ninja must wear their masks at all times. Their true identity is to be known only to the Hokage, the Council, and to others that the Hokage sees fit. Failure to comply will deem you a target in the field. To remove your masks without the order to is unacceptable and is punishable by the Hokage. This is the second directive."

Sasuke nodded; quietly impressed that she'd quoted the first Hokage's Directive to the letter. The other Anbu seemed to understand what he was getting at and quickly concealed their faces, once again assuming their roles as the village's elite, rather than Shinobi, bored in times of peace.

"Don't let me catch you again. If I do, there will be consequences." The Uchiha warned, releasing a bit of his killer intent. He was satisfied with the quick "Hai, Taichou" and his men sweating like taps in their seats.

Honestly, Sasuke wasn't sure when he men had become so soft, but he figured that peace-bored Shinobi were better than some of the older Veterans he had seen; sullen and haunted after the war, paranoid and twitchy beyond repair. For a while he'd been the same, as well as facing slight psychological trauma after seeing his brother again, but he pulled through because he had _Naru_.

_Naru the savior with her reassuring grin, her long blonde hair streaming free and wild, and hips that swayed as she sashayed away, eyes - blue he'd only see only in a stormy sea - that promised mischief and victory. Naru his best friend that always kept him grounded and made him feel wanted, needed and loved-_

_Naru_.

Kami he missed her, not that anyone needed to know that. She was gone now, as impossible as it seemed, and Sasuke had to get a grip; on his memories, his emotions, his sloppy Anbu. He needed control, and what little he had seemed to dwindle each day, each day his men did something stupid, each time the Council tried to dictate their ideas on repopulate the Uchiha clan, each time Kakashi tried to get him to talk. And now he had to deal with Hunters tearing his rookies a new one. Speaking of...

The Uchiha whirled on his heel, his glare fixated on one red-head kunoichi. Her attitude was uncaring, but the way she held her cup - like a sword, or maybe a staff- indicated that she was tense, acutely aware of his presence behind her.

"What's your name?" He asked tersely.

"I'm not obliged to answer," she threw back, peering at him over her shoulder.

Funny, he'd said the same thing once, to a Hyuuga boy - back when he was overly cocky and thought he could take down anyone. He supposed this girl was the same; arrogant, and Sasuke couldn't accept that. Arrogance got people hurt and killed, not to mention it was annoying - surely he wasn't that bad, right? Okay, maybe a little...

His thoughts are interrupted by Stag, bent on one knee between the two shinobi.

"Uragiri-taichou, Ookami-taichou, the Hokage requests your presence immediately for a long-term mission briefing."

Sasuke nodded, Uragiri did the same. They watched Stag disappear again. Before Sasuke could question Uragiri further, she had already followed Stag to the tower.

_Uragiri_.

_Betrayal_.

For some reason, the name just didn't sit right with him. He'd do some digging on the operative before he left for the tower.

* * *

The tower hadn't changed since she'd last been here. The door was still guarded by two Chuunin, who nodded curtly at her as she ambled past. She had missed how her footsteps echoed strangely in the curving hallways, missed reading the scriptures Sarutobi once lined the walls with. Even the Hokage's office remained the same, at the very top of the tower, a circular room, with only a large ornate desk to fill some space. And like the last time, a graying man sat behind it, hands folded on the table, watching her. She was the first one there.

"Uragiri-san, it's been a long time," the Hokage greeted. "You could've used the window, you know. Everyone else does."

Uragiri folded herself into a bow, kneeling, with a hand over her heart. "Forgive me, Hokage-sama. I thought I no longer had the right." She heard him chuckle, but kept her head lowered. She knew his thoughts, and her face flamed with shame. Somehow, she suspected that Kakashi knew despite the fact that her face was hidden.

While he was glad she had finally come back, even if under orders, there were more pressing matters to discuss. His shift in demeanor was evident, his one-eyed smile slipping into a grim expression. She sensed the change before she saw, feeling her stomach twist in dread.

"Uragiri." Her name was like sharpened steel on his tongue.

"Hai, Hokage-sama?"

"How have you been?"

The question was unexpected. "I've been ... well," she lied. She was miserable and they both knew it, and seeing Sasuke again after avoiding him for so long almost hurt. Her heart felt heavy and her mind was blank. She wasn't sure how much longer she could keep this up.

Kakashi gave her a hard look, but nodded anyway. She suspected that she had just walked into a trap of some kind.

She felt Stag enter the room behind her, melting into the shadows, and another, more familiar presence slip in through the window. What was Sai, of all people, doing here? Not that she was complaining. It was nice to have someone who she'd grown close to in the last few years here.

"Commander Wolf will be here momentarily. Apparently, there was an incident in the Captain's lounge that he needs to deal with before he arrives," the ink user murmured. Uragiri could almost feel the sideways glance he threw her direction. He always knew when she was getting into trouble.

They didn't have to wait long. Wolf came in like thunder, sudden and with a presence. He was still guarded, even after so long and really, Uragiri mused, there was nothing wrong with that. Sasuke was Sasuke, and nothing, not even a war, could change his proud nature.

He bent low before the Hokage, and Sai and Uragiri followed suit, just as an old man entered the room.

* * *

Three muggles were kneeling as he entered the room, black cloaks pooling around their knees as they awaited further orders. Their postures were rigid, perfectly still and yet, completely obedient and subservient as the Rokudaime Hokage stood. The silence in the room was stifling, and Dumbledore briefly wondered how the Anbu could stand it, before he reminded himself that these weren't muggles; they were wizards in their own right, protectors of the civilians here and veterans of war to boot.

Dumbledore nodded in greeting and Kakashi responded in kind, his face stony and unyielding; another show of power and control. It was if the man was shouting these are my men, this is what we have, and I am the one who reigns.

Unbeknownst to him, the Shinobi were thinking the same thing. They understood that power-plays were only used when the Hokage didn't trust a client, and in times of peace it was few and far between. But Kakashi had over two and a half decades of experience, and his instincts were sharper than anyone's. If he said he wasn't trustworthy yet, then the Shinobi would do all they could to hint at what would happen if they were crossed.

"Rise."

They did so, but kept their heads lowered.

Kakashi gestured to Dumbledore. "This is Professor Albus Dumbledore."

Sai turned discreetly towards his comrades, and using the standard Anbu sign language said: _Foreign name, from outside of the barrier. English, possibly._

They replied with a quick swipe of a thumb over the pointer finger's knuckle. _Received and understood_.

"Dumbledore-san is the headmaster of a school in Scotland, outside of the Elemental barrier."

The old man stepped forward, and the shinobi couldn't help but stare at the man. He was ancient, with deep lines creasing his eyes and forehead. It was an oddity, old age, and not one often seen in the Elemental Nations. The average lifespan here was sixty and half of that for an active ninja if they were lucky or particularly good. The man if front of them looked as if he had seen too many years, old and tired, but still stood straight with pride and confidence. He was what the shinobi would have called a person of interest, and thus should be treated as a threat until his motives were made clear.

The Sixth Hokage continued. "Should you choose to accept, you will be going on a long term mission to The Outside to protect his school and his students."

Dumbledore watched with interest as the information sank in. The smaller agent, which he assumed was a woman, looked to the man on her left - the tallest of the trio - and seemed to withdraw into herself. Said male's ears pricked up in interest, minutely turning his head to look and his possible client. Dumbledore swore that through the slight slits in his mask he saw red eyes. The other male watched the girl, and if the headmaster didn't know better, he would be sure that he was both familiar with the kunoichi and worried for her. The exchange was interesting. The man would watch them closely.

A long term mission? On the Outside? With Sasuke? Uragiri wasn't ready for this. This couldn't happen. She had resigned herself to forgetting him two years ago. The Uchiha wasn't good for her, after all, and her prosthetic arm was proof of that. Her arm shook with her restlessness, and she felt Sai's eyes on her, searching and worried. She wanted to reach out and ensure him, or better yet, flash him a bright smile like her old self could. But she was no longer the sunny Naru that everyone looked to for reassurance: She was Uragiri, deadly assassin and leader of the Hunter Division. She couldn't reassure herself, let alone Sai. Sasuke was always the one thing that shook her to the core. An unknown enigma. And Uragiri couldn't allow that.

In her distracted state, she'd missed a few things, Sai knew. Like how the mission's pay was more than enough to keep the village afloat for the next few years, or how the old man kept glancing nervously at them. Or how Kakashi mentioned something about wizards. And magic. And a dark lord. And a boy destined to end a war between good and evil. He also saw the way Kakashi looked at them mournfully, unwilling to send them to yet another war. He turned to the client, only to see the old man give a sly smile to Kakashi. The ink master narrowed his eyes. In quick sign he said:_ Sour client. Cold fire. Rabbit agents. Snake hole?_

In other words; Blackmail on the client's part. Hokage can't avoid it. Thinks we can handle it. Should we play along?

Sasuke saw the message and took another look at the old man through Sharingan eyes. Beneath the twinkling exterior was another motive and Sasuke was going to find it. Naru died hoping to see this village tranquil and prospering, and this old man wasn't going to threaten her dream, not if he could help it. He gave an affirmative, and watched the girl next to him do the same after a bit of hesitation.

"Hokage-sama," Sasuke interrupted suddenly. "We accept."

Kakashi nodded, quietly relieved that Sai had worked it out and slipped them a message. His ability to read people was one of the main reasons he had placed the former ROOT member on this team. And his former students ... his heart nearly broke at the thought of them in the same proximity again. He was sure that he'd made the right decision placing them together. They'd always found a way to look after each other, whether they knew it or not and he only hoped that that still applied after all this time. He'd promise Naru to keep Sasuke safe and separated from herself, but she'd understand if it was impossible to do both. He went with the wish that meant more to her.

"Very well. You have two hours to prepare. Replacements have already been assigned to your positions. Rendezvous here at 2300 hours to have your packs checked by Uragiri-san. Wolf, you are the commanding captain. Tiger, second in command. Uragiri, liaison." He handed them each a standard mission scroll, reminding them of the mission parameters and a profile on one ''Potter, Harry.''

"Hai, Hokage-sama." They chorused, and disappeared without even a wisp of smoke.

* * *

She'd barely been in her apartment a full minute before he flew through the window in an arch of grace and stealth, pivoting on his feet to face her. "What are you going to do, Naru? You can't hide from him forever."

"I know Sai, dammit." She sighed. "I just hope Kurama's henge and his grief is enough to fool him for a little more." She tucked a piece of her pseudo-crimson hair behind her ear.

Sai shook his head. "If he's anything, it's possessive, and smart." He admitted. "He'll figure it out, Naru, and I won't be able to help you when he does." The artist opened his arms, drawing her into his chest, a pose that had gradually become familiar over time. Comfortable even. Though neither would say it aloud. She pressed her nose deeper into his collar.

"We're no good for each other. I mean, look how far he's come without me? The Commander of Anbu."

"But you're miserable. You always have been when you two are separated."

"...You'd better go home and start packing Sai"

Damn she hated it when he was right.

* * *

They'd managed to get to the tower an hour earlier than allowed, after giving brief instructions to their replacements and getting their packs and weapons sealed into the seals Uragiri had painted on their armor. They'd had arrived before the client again, long enough for Kakashi to give them an unofficial mission: gather Intel on the school and the people in it, especially the headmaster and the boy he obsessed over in the mission briefing. Really, they were glad. They were planning on doing it with or without his permission anyway.

The shinobi had just finished sealing their secondary mission scroll into fresh seals when the client walked in, carrying an old boot and a little pile of books. The operatives raised their eyebrows in question, not that anyone could see it behind their porcelain masks.

"Our mode of transport, and dictionaries to help you learn the language of my people. You Hokage has forbidden me from casting any spell on you or charming any objects that might help you learn English. You will have to learn the hard way, I'm afraid." Dumbledore chuckled, and gave them his signature grandfatherly smile. Secretly, he was fuming. The minute he'd cast a spell, the contract would become null and void. This meant neither he nor his staff could cast an interrogative spell or any spell that could potentially affect the ninja physically or mentally. Kakashi was a smart man, but Dumbledore had been playing this game for a long time. Where they were rules, there were also loopholes to exploit.

Each shinobi took a dictionary, tucking the foreign book into their hip pouches. They wouldn't need them for long; Sasuke could memorize the content with his Sharingan, Uragiri had clones and Sai had learned the language to an extent during his time in ROOT. He could learn the rest quickly. Kakashi was sure that a language barrier would not be an issue with these operatives.

"If you're quite ready, Kakashi-san ...?" The headmaster said. The portkey would be activated soon, ready to take them to the Mainland, as it was known here, or rather, Kyoto, Japan. There, they would meet with a local wizard and Floo to the head quarters of the Order of the Phoenix.

The younger man nodded. "Time to go. Good luck, team."

A round of affirmative nods followed, and each of the agents stepped towards the old boot in the old man's grasp. Gingerly, they placed a hand on it, gripping it firmly.

"Is that mold?" Uragiri exclaimed, disturbed. "Oh hell no. That's mol-" She was cut off by a harsh tug to her navel, where she quickly decided to hang on to that damned boot - moldy or not- for dear life. The other shinobi followed suit, and had the boot been living, it would have perished under their fierce grip. There was the pull, and then the room was spinning, slowly at first, then like a spiraling vortex, faster and faster until the room disappeared.

They fell into blackness.

* * *

**A/N: So that was the first chapter guys! If you liked, please take the time to review even if it's just a smiley face :D Chapters will be perhaps every two weeks, as English is my second language and I need time to translate my stories. If you have any ideas for the plot feel free to leave a review! Big thank you to my Beta and saving grace gunslinger20121. Ngā mihi ki a koe, gunslinger, and big thank you to you for reading! **

**~ Tempered-In-Fire ㈸8**


	2. Observing Trouble

**A/N: **So I had originally had this chapter completed much sooner, but no Beta to read it through and had to check this myself. In doing so I decided to rewrite it about six times and I decided _'**no more!**' People are waiting! So here it is :)_

Thank you to everyone who reviewed! I am very happy that this story received so much positive attention. Especially as this is my first fic, and English is not my first language.

Without further ado.

* * *

_**In which there are observations.**_

* * *

They'd made it to England relatively unscathed on the fourth day of the school holidays, disgruntled and unimpressed with Wizarding methods of transport. Sasuke's memories of the long days since were vague, blurred between copious paperwork sent from Konoha (Stag, that lazy little shit was going to get it - in a dignified manner, of course) and coordinating his small squad. He recalled a heated debate with the old man Dumbledore, who had asked for all the Shinobi to stay within the depressing confines of Grimmauld Place, but argued that that would be detrimental to the mission and he was not authorised to command his troops as he saw fit - and who in their right mind would stay here anyway?

_No_, he had said with finality. _My squad would be wasted here._

He didn't add that they knew he only wanted the Order to keep an eye on them.

And so he'd stretched himself thin, endlessly portkeying between the dusty walls of Sirius' home to the seemingly endless expanses of the Hogwarts' grounds. He'd set himself and his team a strict routine where he'd get up an hour before daybreak, activate the seal that allowed Tora to return from his watch post at Little Whinging before setting another for the sullen Hunter-nin to take his place. She would nod at him stoically before taking off and he'd give a gruff order for Tora to eat before continuing his English studies - by writing his intel he'd gathered throughout the night in the foreign language. He'd work on paperwork his replacement back at Headquarters sent him while he waited and sent his own report on to the Hokage via his hawk familiars.

As soon Tora was done he'd take the portkey Albus had given him to get to the school. There, he'd spend hours mapping out the grounds, profiling each staff member that caught his interests and probing the school's defenses. It usually wasn't until the sun had long sunk past the horizon did he return to the Order's base to present his findings to his squad in the spare room, unmasked and away from the nosy Wizards. The pale boy would always comment on the wizards he deemed needed more careful observation and the red-haired girl would quietly suggest seal matrixes that could improve the school's security measures. She'd make them herself, quickly, efficiently and with hypnotic grace. Sasuke would install them where she suggested the very next day.

It was tedious work, and a stark contrast to the ruthless tasks he'd endure in his usual post, but Sasuke didn't care. It keep his ever wandering mind from thoughts he'd tried his best to bury long ago.

But lately Uchiha Sasuke had found another distraction in the form of the lithe kunoichi Uragiri.

His interest lay in her quirks: some which wouldn't seem strange within the confines of ANBU but irked him on such a low-profile mission. It was little things at first, like how she avoiding speaking when she could; preferring to use the ANBU sign taught to every operative within the Corps. How she'd sit at the table, glaring down at whatever she'd been working on and twitch as if having an internal debate with herself and losing. She hadn't once removed her mask. She hadn't once slept in the weeks they'd been here.

The next were the parallels between the Hunter and Naru, which at first he had dismissed as he always did. He often found likeness of Naru in other women, sometimes in the bow of their legs or shape of their faces, but found flaws that immediately rendered them different. The fact that he was looking for her in other women irked him. It was if his soul would not believe that she had gone, despite the long-winded report Kakashi had given him that more or less confirmed it. Logically, he knew that Naru was mortal, even though her undying will made her seem otherwise, but the longer he looked at the female operative, the more similarities he found.

She was similar in height and build, and in her interest in the sealing in arts; those were the first things he had noticed. The next were more intimate, like how her hips swayed as she walked and her healthy appreciation of food (which Molly Weasley loved, accustomed to feeding many mouths as she was). Her hard work rivaled only his blonde team-mate, and her unpredictability in spars was reminiscent too. In fact, as time wore on the only differences he found lay in her bright red hair, introverted nature and her vast skill in Kenjutsu: the latter Sasuke had witnessed when she'd nearly carved up Tora in last week's spar. She had held the thin, three-foot-eight blade like a long-lost friend while Naru had never really cared for weapons, preferring to beat that friendship bullshit into her opponents hand-to-hand.

Each day the troublesome list grew longer, until eventually Sasuke heard something he'd never thought he'd hear again.

It had been nothing really, just a simple slip of the tongue that really, anyone could have said. Except, it had been said with such determination that _only _Naru could have accomplished it.

It occurred when Molly Weasley had expressed some concerns over her children's safety at Hogwarts this year, afraid that their protection only extended to Harry and the School itself.

And how did she reply?

_"Ne, don't worry Molly-San. We'll watch over them. Dattebayo."_

He remembered staring at her for a long time. Long enough for her to shift uncomfortably before uttering in Japanese for him to stop. Which he did, abruptly, but not before his heart had skipped a beat in his chest.

The Uchiha shook his head at his thoughts.

Naru was long gone. Anything similar he saw in the hunter was merely his wishful thinking.

* * *

Her body clock alerted her to sunrise just before the first dregs of light filtered through the grimy dining room window. Slowly, she packed the seals she had been working on into a spare scroll for later.

Her thoughts had been muddled lately, divided between her mission and the ever-present Commander that watched her like a hawk. She suspected that he was growing curious to her true identity (his piercing gaze never wavered from her if they were in the same room, after all) but that was to be expected.

He was Uchiha Sasuke, a genius prodigy in his own right.

Given, that right was as a previously international criminal.

With that, she shoved all thoughts of him away again, reminding herself that he wasn't good for her and tapped her false arm in silent reprimand. She had other things to think about.

A small burst of chakra alerted her to Tora's arrival, announcing the start of her shift. She made her way to the third floor, brushing a hand across Sai's shoulder as she passed him and entered the spare room the ANBU were lodging in. Sasuke wasn't there this morning, meaning he'd probably been called by Dumbledore to discuss something nonsensical.

Shrugging, she pushed aside the threadbare rug that hid the seal she'd applied on the floor weeks ago and went through the hand signs that activated the complex matrix. Black kanji glowed gold and orange for a moment, the ropes of light moving to wrap along her legs before she vanished.

Sasuke stepped out of the shadows, Rinne-Sharingan narrowed, boring into the seal. Quietly, he concealed the once-again black kanji beneath the rug and vanished.

He would skip Hogwarts today.

He needed to have words with the Hokage.

* * *

Harry sat comfortably on his bed, shirtless with a book in his lap, trying not to squirm as Uragiri's paint brush fluttered across the skin of his back.

"Don't move." She muttered, and even without looking, Harry knew that she was frowning, probably from him smudging something.

"Something wrong?" He asked, tensing as not to bump her as she worked.

She squinted at the seal she applied to just below his shoulder-blade, scrutinising the complex swirls and kanji. "No, the seal is perfect." She replied.

"What does-"

"This one is another muscle-building seal. The old one isn't any good since you've surpassed the muscle mass specified within the matrix." Uragiri said before he could finish. She knew there was little time before Voldemort struck again and believed in preserving breath and time. She often came off as rude, but she knew Harry understood that she was simply worried.

She applied one more seal, one that promoted healing, before she sat back, admiring her hard work.

The last four weeks had been trying on both of them, but the work had paid off. With the help of her seals, Harry's body was now a healthy weight and sported lean, muscled limbs. His body was covered in Fūin of her own design and those designed by her father and his sensei. There were maybe forty or so, each with a different purpose that ranged from boosting his immune system to smaller seals that helped his body glean maximum nutrition from his food. Weight seals for speed and muscle growth, and many more.

With a bit of cheating, he was now as fit as a graduating academy student, but as soon as she figured out how magic and chakra were related she estimated he would easily be high Genin level.

Changes made in Harry were not only physical either. The boy was generally calmer, more reserved and prone to listening. He followed her orders to the 'T' and never complained when his body collapsed from exhaustion. It made her wonder how often the boy had been given direction in his life, or if he'd ever had a role model as strong and as lasting as her. Uragiri doubted it, but was pleased he'd trusted her and as a result made such progress since their first meeting a month ago...

* * *

_She tapped on the window again, uncaring that her ward had turned ashen pale quickly, and was pointing his wand to her face as he cautiously opened the window._

_"Who are you?" He demanded. Harry's grip on his wand was fearsome, knuckles white- but that did not disguise the fact that his arm shook with unbridled fear at that sight of her._

_Slowly, she stepped in, bringing the humid air in with her. She didn't want to frighten him. At least, no more than she already had. The initial shock from glimpsing her bone white armour and mask that seemed to shed blood tears was slowly wearing off._

_"Calm, Harī." She winced at the thick accent that slurred his name, but pressed on, raising her arms to show she meant no harm. "I am Uragiri. Dumbledore has hired my comrades and I to protect you."_

_She expected relief from the boy. Perhaps even a smile. She did not expect her charge to storm closer to her, pressing the stick he wielded into her neck. Uragiri could have stopped him, of course, but she curbed her screaming instincts and let him closer; let him feel in control._

_"I don't need guards." He spat, green eyes narrowed. "I need to find Voldemort and kill him before he does me and my friends!"_

_Behind her mask, her blue eyes narrowed. So quick was this boy to wish he were at war, when he didn't really know what war implied. This boy had no real combat experience. He hadn't marched to the drums of war and hadn't seen his comrades die beside him as she had. Harry was too green; and yet expected - was expected - to save the Wizarding world._

_Naturally, not a single Wizard was doing anything to prepare him, help him. They merely sat back shame faced as he threw himself at the enemy _four years _in a row. It was no wonder why the boy thought he needed no one, didn't need to get stronger. Dumbledore obviously hadn't told him that what he had achieved thus far was only the tip of the iceberg._

_The very thought disgusted her, and would disgust her comrades who she would recall this tale to later tonight. After all,"The Chosen One" was nothing more than a flashed up title for "Everyone Else's Bitch and Scapegoat". She herself would know. And over her dead body would she let another orphaned Child of Prophecy go through what she had. Uragiri would make sure he was prepared, and not break under other people's expectations._

_Lightning quick she moved; shoving the boy against the far wall, and pinning him by the collar of his baggy shirt. A sword had been drawn and placed at the hollow of his neck. She leaned in, close enough that her mouth might've touched the shell of his ear._

_"I disagree, Mr. Potter. Just by looking at you," she gestured to his body, scrawny and unimpressive, "I can tell you don't have a snowball's chance in hell with trying to protect your friends. Or save the world."_

_The boy swallowed thickly, his mind reeling at the impossible show of speed displayed by the woman. She had no magic that he could sense, and was clearly some sort of muggle Samurai. Or perhaps a vigilante. Either way, any courage and anger he felt was quickly diminished, replaced by undeniable fear for his life._

_Would she kill him now? Her blade was digging into his neck so that he had to tilt his back against the wall to avoid lacerations. All she had to do was press forward, and the blade he instinctively knew was lethally sharp could end it all... No, that couldn't be right though. Dumbledore had sent her to protect him. Keep him safe from harm and dangerous people. Dumbledore wouldn't hire some insane killer to watch over him ... right?_

_True to his thoughts, Uragiri backed off, letting the boy sag to the ground at her feet. He panted heavily, clutching at his neck and trying vainly to slow his breathing._

_Slowly, he raised his head, new thoughts replacing arrogance within himself. If people like her were around, there was no argument. He needed to get stronger. This person was strong, he could feel her power rolling off her body in waves, the permeating energy of it threatened to suffocate his battered body. He hadn't felt such power since he had gone toe to toe with Voldemort a week ago._

_Noticing a familiar change in his eyes, the Shinobi knelt until she was eye level with him. Where angry green eyes had nested; determined and resolved emeralds replaced them. Ah, yes. She was well aware that when knocked down into reality, people either gave up on their goals or fought harder to obtain them. She smiled forlornly, glad that Harry was one of the latter._

_"We were hired the same day you arrived home." She revealed, which meant that she had watched him for two days straight, but he didn't need to know that, just yet._

_"We have noticed that you have been held back, far more than you should have been, and believe that you could do better."_

_He scowled at her, looking very Uchiha-like with his frown and messy black hair._

_"I'm not taking a dig at your school work, Harī. I'm just saying, you could be stronger. In fact, my Commander has asked that I offer to train you. Prepare you for the worst should it occur. Based on previous experiences, we think it will, and very soon." She said quietly, sitting heavily on his bed. She didn't mention that Sasuke had ordered that she make Harry trust them should the worst happen and Dumbledore _did _use what he knew of their country against them. The old man could blackmail their leader, but they could coax their saviour on to their side. At least, in theory._

_The idea left a bitter taste in her, which worsened when he seemed to genuinely like the offer. She was named Betrayal for a reason, and she didn't like tricking Harry. She hoped that this twisted manipulation didn't come to fruit and that she really could prepare him for future battles._

_The boy would need it._

* * *

Snapping out of her thoughts, she squeezed his shoulder to tell him she had finished and opened the window as he redressed.

Once he was done, she made what she had called a Shadow Clone, which would replace him for the day as the two of them trained together in the park, hidden under several layers of Fuuinjutsu Uragiri set before her arrival.

The not-him nodded stoically, uncharacteristically blank-faced as it headed down stairs to make breakfast for the Dursleys. He didn't think that the Clone seemed like him at all, but Uragiri assured him that his relatives, being as ignorant of him as they usually were, wouldn't notice.

The past few weeks were a testament to that, and somehow, Harry didn't care. His relatives might not notice him, but the red-haired Hunter that stood before him did, and for the past four weeks, that was all that had mattered.

Uragiri pointed to the window and without a fuss, Harry checked his bearings before deftly jumping. He landed with a harsh thud before dropping down into a roll to decrease the impact. Harry was up again in an instant, always aware of Uragiri's words from previous lessons. '_Never stay down too long.' 'Your opponents will always take advantage of the time it takes for you to make your next move. Don't let them. Always keep moving.'_

With Uragiri by his side, Harry was sure he'd never stop again.

00

_Shit shit shit shit shit shit!_

Uragiri growled, swiping at the wraith-like menace again only for her katana to pass through the damn thing for a third time. It didn't help that she had been forced to protect Harry's cousin Chubby (_Naru could never remember his name) _who wailed and clawed at her while Harry pushed the other flying rag away with a ball of light.

He had already been dead-tired after a full day's training but now was swaying dangerously on his feet as he tried to combat the biting cold that swept through the alley and dodge the Dementors.

Frustrated, she pushed Chubbers to the side as the _thing _dove past, and jumped in front of it so that Harry was hidden behind her.

"Their weakness is pure positive energy!" Harry informed her and he aimed another Protronus at the Dementor before him, which thankfully banished the being from the scene.

Uragiri snorted at the comment. Only the Wizarding world creatures would have such cheesy weaknesses.

Instead of anything remotely relevant to Harry's suggestion, she pulled a standard sealing scroll from her pouch, and unfurled in with a flourish.

She bared her teeth at the creature, the cloth scroll draped over her arm and shoulder.

"Come at me."

It was over in seconds.

* * *

A clone held an exhausted Harry in its arms as she wiped Dudley's memory of the event. The last thing she wanted was for Harry to be blamed for the attack and his family's biased opinion of him wouldn't help things. Instead, she replaced the last few minutes with dull images of the walk home. Another one of her clones close by would wake him nearer to the house disguised as a civilian bypasser, who would claim he had passed out. With the amount of alcohol she sensed in his system, it wouldn't be hard to believe.

She sighed as she spotted Arabella Figg staring at them. The Order was supposed to be watching Harry (or rather, the Harry Clone as the real Harry was busy getting beaten bloody,) and if memory served, a man named Mundungus had been scheduled to watch him.

The Shinobi were not to interfere with Order buisness, which they evidently had, although Arabella was having a hard time being angry that this one had (as she had directly disobeyed Albus) since she _had _saved Harry.

The warrior approached her, and Mrs. Figg had a hard time curbing the instinct to flinch at the horrid mask the other wore.

"When Fletcher returns, you will have him report to Dumbledore-san immediately."

The elder woman nodded timidly.

"Have Harry recuperate at your house until he wakes up. He's exhausted but will need someone to explained the repercussions when he awakens. I'll erect some temporary wards and make sure you're protected. This way, I can keep an eye on both of you."

Another nod.

Uragiri knew things were about to get more complicated, but she didn't want to leave Harry by himself just yet.

She turned to the clone that carried Harry, the latter littered in bruises and deeply drained.

"I'm heading back to base. The Commander will need to hear this."

The clone nodded, following the skittish Figg to her home.

She made four more clones. One would oversee out the mission of Harry's cousin and the others would scout the neighbourhood and watch over her ward and his temporary guardian. She relayed this tiredly, and watched them disappear to their duties.

* * *

Uragiri returned to Grimmauld Place, only to find an unmasked Sasuke sitting on one of the borrowed beds, Sharingan swirling lazily as he studied her.

Uragiri watched him warily. She wasn't sure if her bristling sensing were still running high due the first real combat situation she had had in weeks, or if she was actually in danger.

"Commander, I need to report to you about-" She stopped suddenly, unsheathing her sword to meet his in a show of sparks. _Danger it is__, then._

The last Uchiha was not playing. His face was stony and unforgiving, much like it had been when she had found him him in Otogakure the first time. Only her lightning quick reflexes had saved her neck, and even then, by a thin margin. His sword crossed her neck horizontally, so close that if she swallowed hard enough her throat would brush his blade. Her blade wielded vertcally, slightly to the side of her body where she could parry if need be, but her hands were more or less nullified. She grit her teeth as he pushed down harder, forcing her back a few steps until her back foot hit the wall behind her.

_Where the hell did this come from?!_

"Wolf, stand down!" She bit out. "This isn't the time for a spar! I need to tell you-"

She was cut off again as she tilted her head to the side, barely avoid a kunai that lodged itself beside her head in the wall, courtesy of a clone Sasuke had hidden in the corner under Genjutsu. Her eyes tracked several red strands floated toward the floor, glad that it was only hair and not her neck. Her relief was short-lived, however, as she heard the faintest whisper of string snapping where the kunai had brushed past her.

All colour drained from her face as her mask tipped forward. Her hands effectively useless, she watched as the porcelain mask of Uragiri fell to the floor with a clatter, revealing her blue eyes and whiskered cheeks - the only two things Kurama's Henge couldn't hide.

"Yes. There's definitely something you need to tell me. _Uzumaki Naru._"

* * *

**A/N: **Reviews are appreciated! If you have ideas of where you want to see the plot going, feel free to PM me or review the story.

**Story Stats Pre-Update: 2160 views, 19 reviews, 119 favs, 167 alerts, one very thankful and determined author!**

**Next Chapter:** 'Coming Clean and Cleaning Up'. Give me two weeks, 'Kay?


	3. Cleaning up, and Coming Clean

**This chapter is dedicated to TrenchcoatMan, for believing in me. Thanks, man.**

* * *

**Chapter Three**

_**In which there is cleaning up, and coming clean.**_

* * *

_Earlier this morning_...

The Portkey Dumbledore had given Sasuke had landed him right outside the gates of the Hokage Tower. Despite being early morning when he left England half a minute ago, the moon was high in Konoha, which was separated from the rest of the world not only by a vast time difference, but by extensive Fuuin jutsu that widened the time gap further. He couldn't help but look at the fourth face carved into the mountain above him, illuminated by a waning moon which gave the stone-faced man a cold appearance. If his suspicions were correct, the daughter of the man was _very _much alive, and Sasuke would be having _words _with her.

As always, Kakashi had sensed his arrival and had opened the window for him to enter. The elder man had learned a long time ago that Uchiha Sasuke did not like wasting time.

There were no guards present when he entered, and as soon as he had, the silver haired man shut the window behind him and activated the privacy wards in his office. The bastard _knew _why he was here. Little point in beating around the ramen stand. He worded his question carefully, filling loopholes in case the sly veteran decided to mess with him.

"Is Uzumaki-Namikaze Naru the Hunter-nin Uragiri? Yes or no?"

He didn't deny it like Sasuke thought he would, rather, he tired slumped forwarded until his palms were pressed hard against his forehead. A confirmation.

"I would prefer to have this conversation either with her presence, or stinking drunk. The first is not an option." He said mildly, reaching for a drawer that Sasuke knew was full of Konoha's cheapest and strongest sake brew. The last time he had seen it open was when he had return from his pilgrimage abruptly, under the premise that his idiot team mate had undergone a solo mission, had it compromised, and died.

Sasuke licked his lips, his throat suddenly dry. He snatched the porcelain bottle from Kakashi's fumbling hands, and poured the man a cup. He filled his own and drained it, cringing as the damned drink burned his throat.

"You were the one that called me back. You said she was gone." He said hoarsely, coughing once. "Why?" So many things could have followed that word but the Uchiha found his throat wouldn't obey. _Why did you say that? Why did she do that? Why didn't you tell me? Why did she lie?_

So wound up was he in his thoughts that he hadn't noticed Kakashi press a half filled cup into his hands and pull him into a fierce hug.

Quietly, the elder man said, "there's some things that people have to face alone." The _you of all people should know _was left unsaid, but Sasuke heard it as if it was shouted.

He stepped away from his former teacher, pinning him under a hard stare. "What are you talking about?"

The Rokudaime grimaced. "Why don't we take a walk?"

00

Despite the late hour the red light slums of Konoha were deserted, with only one or two people spotted through grimy windows. Sasuke looked at Kakashi curiously.

"This area was slated for demolition after the Pein Invasion. We haven't got around to it yet." The Kage explained. "Only the most destitute continue to live here."

Sasuke nodded thoughtfully. Naturally the village's funds from the past three years would first go towards rebuilding more important things like the hospital and the academy, residual areas for civilians and clan compounds. Especially when the rebuilding was put on hold to support the war effort, after which there was little materials to spare for rebuilding slums like these.

They rounded a corner to a run-down apartment block. Most of the windows had been busted in, and the paint had peeled everywhere except where someone had repainted in select places, probably to cover graffiti. Sasuke followed the elder man to the last door on the second floor. He noted that, strategically, it was the best one to live in. There were enough trees to obscure the flat from onlookers in the street, but not enough for enemy ninja to hide in. Being the end flat meant that, should the owner have to fight, there was only a narrow walkway to defend.

Kakashi fished a set of keys from his pocket. A familiar frog key chain hung from it.

_She had never been to a festival before. She was so ecstatic when he'd won the stupid trinket for her that she had actually hugged him and—_

"Naru's house." He said bluntly.

Kakashi confirmed with a grim nod. "Although she hasn't lived here for about two and a half years. People were after her, and I had her hidden and moved. She's been in standard Jounin housing ever since, not too far from the Uchiha estate or the Tower."

Sasuke nodded, aware of the large concrete building just a league further up the road from his family's rebuilt compound. It was only a quarter league from Kakashi's office, a distance that could be covered in ten seconds at a lax pace.

Something was up.

Naru lived in a central apartment close to two of her former teammates, close enough that help could reach her (or vice versa) if need be. It was also conveniently close to several underground escape routes that led into both HQ and the Hokage Tower. A perfect place for a refugee. But who was Naru - possibly the strongest kunoichi alive- running away from?

As he pondered this, Kakashi had unlocked the door with some effort—the already shoddy lock had rusted over some time—and nodded to Sasuke, who gave the door a hard kick. It swung open with a bang, and he was sure he heard wall plaster fall from the impact. He might have shown some remorse if not for the state of the room they stood in. He activated his Sharingan, ready to memorize it all.

From floor to ceiling, spray-painted hate littered the walls in large letters and colourful vocabulary. What meager furniture there was had been upturned and torn apart with kitchen knives still buried in there targets. Presumably, Naru had been the one to sweep debris and shredded scrolls to one side and hammered boards over the gaping holes where windows had once been.

There was an air of sadness that spoke of someone who had fought for every little thing they owned, only for it to be destroyed when they weren't looking. He spotted several torn scrolls that had "Namikaze Minato" written on them. It appeared that whoever had done this had tried to read the Yondaime's secrets but found that the scrolls were blank, probably a blood-seal security measure, and opted to tear them apart instead. _War-hero, daughter of a War-hero, and treated like scum. _Sasuke thought scathingly. _You saved the world and this is how it repaid you._

And while the broken glass and furniture, ripped bedding and soiled carpets was bad, it was overshadowed by the text written across the wall in bold, red letters:

_**THE REBELLION WARNED YOU, DEMON!**_

_**WE ARE ALWAYS WATCHING.**_

* * *

Her mask lay shattered by her feet, leaving her face bared to the man she hated ambivalently more than anyone else on the planet. Uchiha Sasuke leaned over her heavily, smelling slightly of sake and sweat. She could feel the cold steel of his blade press into the hollow of her throat, she could feel his Sharingan bore holes into her whiskered cheek as she looked away from him quickly.

"Naru. Naru look at me." His voice was gentle now, soothing. Coaxing. Lies. Nothing like the hardened rasp that tortured her before. Hissed that cursed name at her. When she didn't comply, he simply wrapped a calloused hand around her chin and turned her face toward him.

Beautiful. He was just as beautiful as he had been when they were twelve. _When they were friends, rivals. _His hair had grown long enough to hide his Rinne-Sharingan, but he had pulled the rest of the long mass into a short ponytail at his nape. His jaw was more angular now, even more defined than in had been in the war they'd fought together in at sixteen. _W__he__n they were more akin to enemies. _His skin was less pale now, more of an alabaster than chalk, as it had been when they were side-by-side in hospital, arm-less. _When their __relationship_ _skirted__ along the line of lovers._ He was not the same Sasuke that had left her six years ago. He stepped away from her, giving her room to bolt if she needed to. The Sasuke she knew wouldn't have done that.

She didn't bolt. Naru merely kicked the broken pieces of her mask to one side and sat down, tugging on his arm so that he would sit too. A glance out the window told her that she'd been separated from Harry for ten minutes now, and this would take some time. Sasuke wouldn't wait though, he'd waited for answers for three years. She'd just have to trust that her clones could protect Harry in the mean time. She made another to report the attack to the Order.

They sat cross-legged, facing each other, barely breathing lest the smallest breath disrupt the fragile peace between them.

"Why did you do it?" Sasuke asked quietly. He wasn't looking at her her, opting to watch his hands fiddle with a shard from her mask. He knew she was uncomfortable enough as it was. Had she been her old self, she would have smiled at that she thinks.

Naru didn't answer for a while, trying to string her wayward thoughts into coherent sentences.

"After all I did," she began slowly, "they didn't trust me. They only saw me as the Kyuubi – the civilians, I mean. It didn't matter that I -we- saved them all from that bastard. It didn't matter that I saved the village from Pein. All I am to them is a demon." She released Kurama's Henge on herself, watching as the hair spilling over her shoulder bleed into blonde and her exposed skin darken.

Naru gave him a measured look.  
"They'd rather have you— a traitor, international criminal and a right bastard — among their people than me; because you're from the right pedigree. The same pedigree that tried to take over the world, mind you." She said with a snort, sounding as though the thought was so laughable that the world had already ran the joke into the ground until all that was left was a strangled gasp.

Sasuke didn't reply. Instead he reached behind her and into her pouch to pull her standard issue ANBU scroll. He quietly unfurled it, unsealing a replacement mask and putting away the fragments of her old one. His movements were careful and slow as not to scare her.

"Their were other options, but Kaka-sensei said that nothing but death would stop them from hounding me. It's surprising easy to fool a nation into believing their strongest kunoichi can be easily killed if taken by surprise. Most of them didn't question it. Those who did, like Sai, and Gaara ... Hinata and Shikamaru too, they found me without much effort. Follow the rumors, you know?"

Sasuke hadn't believed it either at first, but he knew no one was immortal, and he'd been too blinded by guilt to see it. Little things were starting to make sense now. Like how Kakashi had been doleful, but not grief-stricken. How a week after her death an up-and-coming kunoichi had trudged into ANBU and taken the Corps by storm, almost immediately obtaining the highest rank in the Head Hunter Division. _The body the rescue team found had blonde hair, but the body was mutilated beyond recognition. The DNA test was run and confirmed by the Senju woman herself. _

"You all lead me to believe you had died." It was a simple statement but she felt her heart drop and the sudden chill in his tone and flat stare in his eye. There was betrayal on his face, and if anyone knew the what the death-like strangle of that felt like it was Naru. Her face flamed with shame and she bowed her head, a silent apology.

She'd been told of how he'd nearly ruined his chakra network, running for three days non-stop _all the way from Snow Country, _with only his feet cross the vast sea that separated it from the mainland. She'd been told of how he'd arrived at the gates of the village, a dead man standing, and how he'd all but screamed his throat raw when he'd heard that he'd missed the funeral by a mere two hours. Shizune had whispered how he'd been non-responsive for a week while he recovered, before suddenly demanding for her to give him a signed physical and psyche evaluation for an admission application for ANBU. All of Konoha had seen how he had given his all to protect and serve the village in honor of her dream to be Hokage.

"I'm sorry Sasuke." A sincere apology, just like the one he'd given her for her arm and her Chidori wound and all the _grief _he'd put her through. It was a band-aid over a kunai wound, but it was enough for him right now. An eye for an eye, or rather, a betrayal for a betrayal. Three years for three years. They were on an even playing field now, and for some reason, he was okay with that. It made him feel a bit less despicable.

Down below the Shinobi could hear the unfolding of a commotion among the Order. A shared glance confirmed that this conversation was far from over and would be continued at a later date.

"When we get back home we fix this _'__rebellion' _ together, you got that, Dobe?"

"Whatever you say, Teme."

* * *

Having the Shinobi on his side was great, Harry decided. They were adults, but never treated him like a child. They understood and fed his desire to be better, stronger, greater, _more. _Uragiri, he felt, understood him the most, because all he'd done was _look _at her and she'd nodded thoughtfully to herself before deciding to train him. Tora, his second guard, had said she had seen _potential _in Harry, more than _the boy who lived, _and that automatically made her better than most wizards in his book.

Tora himself was a decent bloke in Harry's opinion. When Harry would return home beaten and bruised from a hard day's training, it was Tora who patched him up, and trained his senses by flitting around the darkened room for the wizard to find. Tora, he found was more open to answering questions whenever he asked, although neither ever withheld the truth. It had been Tora that had told him of the Order, and of Ron and Hermione, who were all sworn to secrecy to protect themselves, which was the reason for the radio silence on their end. It was Uragiri who had shrugged off his questions on why they were telling him then, if that were true, with a short-but-effective snort. _"__We're not Order Members __Ha__r__ī__. If we wanted a play club, it wouldn't be a secret, and every wrong doer would be scared __shit-less__." _

Harry believed them, of course. He'd seen what they could do. And so what if they were muggles? They were strong, and unafraid of what Voldemort might do (could do) to them. They were people to respect and revere, unlike the cowardly coterie of the Ministry that only wanted to save there own hides.

This was further fixed in young Harry's mind when both Uragiri and Tora literally appeared before him in a flash of yellow light, with barely a whisper of sound.

"Pack your things, we leave in two minutes." Tora informed him in his usual dull tone. He pulled Harry's trunk from the beneath the bed and began tossing in Harry's clothes. Harry followed suit and messily stacked his school books in too, while Uragiri carefully removed the wards and seals she'd set up over the summer.

"What's the rush?" Harry asked as he grabbed Hedwig's cage. Neither shinobi paused as he questioned them and were proud when they'd seen he hadn't either.

"This base of operations has been compromised. The Order has decided it will be best for you to go to their headquarters. There may be a... tension between us upon our arrival, but that is to be expected, considering the circumstances." The male Shinobi said.

"Wizards are useless," Uragiri muttered. "The Order wanted to lure your relatives out with a lawn competition – of all things – before collecting you, which would have taken days to organize. We decided to retrieve you immediately as per the Captain's orders, as it is not safe to stay here while those _things _could be just around the corner. Certain Order members decided that such measures were reckless and hotheaded of us. They said other things, I'm sure, but we had better things to do than listen to the whining of old crows."

The boy packed away the last of his things with an angry growl. "Who are they to tell you what to do? Without you they wouldn't even know I'd been attacked." Harry could see the stark difference between the organized, military-minded ninja, and the second-rate last line of defense the wizards had scraped together.

"There's a lot more to it than that, Harry." Tora said grimly. "We've interfered in your life far more than mission parameters allow, and messed with the Order's business. If Dumbledore makes an appeal, we could be replaced or just plain sent home. Without pay too."

There was an irked look on his face that reminded both Shinobi of their commander – a narrowing of the eyes and quirk of the brow that gave him a look of someone both dangerous and annoyed.

"Dumbledore doesn't know as much as he thinks he does. He didn't know about Voldemort in first year, or second, or fourth. Cedric _died _because he didn't know and didn't listen. Now that he's back, it feels like I'm just waiting to see what's next, who's next. But I know that it won't be me, and it won't be any of you because we're expecting a fight when no one else is. If he sends you back, who'll help me? Who will die this year? They're idiots if they think we can do this without your help and-"

Uragiri cut the boy off with a firm clap on his shoulder. "It is what it is. We can only go forward from here and see what he says."

Harry released a long exhale and nodded at her words. Everything was packed at this point and the only thing to do now was to leave for Grimmauld Place.

They disappeared in a yellow flash.

* * *

It hadn't been fun when Harry arrived.

It hadn't been fun the following week either.

It was now August 9th and some semblance of normalcy had yet to return to Harry's life. Ron and Hermione refused to talk to Harry, who was now the bad guy for not telling them that he'd known their secret location the whole time, while Harry himself was still annoyed that the two had not put their loyalty for him over their loyalty to Dumbledore and just _told _him. Ron was doubly pissed that Harry had received some form of "secret training", while Hermione was jealous that Harry had seen what the Muggle guards were capable of, and was being stingy about the information under Uragiri's orders.

Speaking of Uragiri and Tora, the two had been oddly scarce. No doubt a consequence of their presence in Surrey, Harry was sure. The third Shinobi (probably Commander Wolf that Tora and Uragiri had spoken of,) had all but confirmed it with a brief grunt of "_they're at Hogwarts_". He could only hope that they weren't in too much trouble and that the Order would see the benefit of it.

And, speaking of the Order, _that _was a bloody joke. Upon his arrival, they'd holed themselves up in their meeting - only to emerge wearing stern and disappointed faces. Sirius had explained that the guards were quite furtive, and many of the other Members doubted they had it in them to protect Harry and the school. They were _Muggles_, after all, but Harry had yet to see a Wizard make a conscious, solid clone of themselves out of smoke, or manipulate the wind around them to cut a tree in half. So far, the Shinobi had done more for him than the Order, and they'd only been here for a little over a month. The Order's blatant disrespect of the Shinobi was churlish and ill-bred

Really, the whole thing was exhausting. It didn't help that Mrs. Weasley had decided to help fix Harry's problems by throwing the infamous golden trio into a single room together to _scrubscrubscrub _away all the problems they had - between themselves or not. _Scrub. Whoops, there goes Voldemort! Scrub! Oops, washed away my trial and expulsion from Hogwarts. Scrub! Oh look, I'm an Orphan! The Ministry's calling me a liar! Bet I can wash that away!_

There was only an hour left of this before they took a break for lunch but Harry was slowly but surely going barmy.

Hermione was the first to break the silence. "Harry, do you really believe that those guards are helping you?" There was a thoughtful look on her face that reminded the two other boys in the room of an inventor on the brink of a genius discovery. Or a cat with a wounded mouse before her.

"I've told you already, Hermione." He started patiently, getting the feeling that perhaps they'd get into yet another argument over the meddling Shinobi. "They're great. Uragiri especially. I feel like everything is _possible _now, defeating _Voldemort_ is possible now. I feel in my bones that I'm more prepared than I've ever been. I can actually _survive _now. It feels _good _to not feel like _prey _anymore. Don't you get that?"

There was silence in the room as his two friends stared mutely at him, surprised. He had almost given up on a response and reached for his scrubbing brush before there was an excited whisper from the bushy haired girl.

"Do you think they would teach me too?"

She looked hopeful, even when Ron threw a disgusted look her way for even thinking the idea. Harry understood though. Hermione, while brilliant, was not one to fight her own battles. She didn't like being though of as weak, which was where her studious aesthetic grew from, constantly working to push herself above her pure blooded pairs. He could see that she'd seen some appeal in learning how to defend herself and fight - not like a Wizard, but like a survivor, a warrior. He could see that she wanted to be known for something other than her intellect.

"Yes." Came an answer from the door, where Wolf's tall frame took up the space as he leaned against the aged wood.

Ron spluttered, "where'd they bloody hell did you come from, mate? And why'd you think that Hermione would want to be taught _anything _from the like of you lot. We'd never even heard about you before we came here. And from what my mum says, you lot aren't even wizards. What in the hell could you even teach us that we can't already do?"

"We taught Harry how to walk on water. You wizards can't do that."

* * *

**And so that brings an end to another chapter. I'm sorry this took so long to get out (nearly a whole year!) but I wanted to make sure I was happy with what I wrote first. I took a couple of extra writing classes to help me with flow and grammar, so hopefully my hard work didn't go to waste!**

**A couple of notes for this chapter:**

**Naru's Apartment - **Not all buildings were destroyed during the Pein invasion, a little ring around the surrounding wall was left mostly untouched. I'd like to think that this is where the poorer area of Konoha was, similar to how homes are worth less the further they are from the city center in real life, and that this is where an orphaned girl presumably on a small stipend was living.

**Sasuke and Naru making up - **Nothing is better quite yet. Sasuke is still mad at Naru, and vice versa - but most importantly, they are on a mission - which always comes first before feelings. They're putting their own feelings on a back burner for now, while they sort out this mess called Harry's life.

**Anti-wizardish Harry - **Is not a thing. Harry has never had any lost love for those who refuse to help him, and was particular angst-y and childish in the fifth book. In this fic, he feels like the Shinobi are the ones helping him, and feels like the wizards are not. Simply put, Harry doesn't hate the Order or the Ministry, but definitely feels like both could be more proactive and aggressive, two things that Ninja are.

**Next time: Harry's trial, and Educational Decree #22.**


	4. Trial and Error

**Chapter Four**

**_In which there is trials of justice and the mind._**

* * *

"Get a grip, Harry."

Harry looked up at the sound of Uragiri's voice calling through the crack in the door. It'd been the first time he'd heard from her in eight days, and he was a bit embarrassed that she'd seen him in his pyjamas, and Ron's drooling form in the other bed. He scrambled up, red in the face and hurried to the door. How had she picked up on his troubles from across a darkened room?

"You're back." He said in an excited whisper. "I didn't think you'd make it back on time. I didn't think you'd be back at all, actually, because -"

She hushed him with a finger to her mask. "You've been getting worked up about things too much. C'mon. No use trying to sleep when all you can think about is this shitty situation." She lead him down the stairs, past the mounted heads of Kreature's ancestors, and the curtains that hid the sleeping Walburga Black as she grumbled in her sleep, and into the kitchen.

"Where have you been? And where is Tora?" Harry asked. She let a sigh and came to a stop at the door to the kitchen. He could tell she was giving him an impatient look behind her mask.

"With the Head master. Tora is still at the school."

It was Harry's turn to give her an impatient look. "Well yes, I figured that. But _what _have you been doing? Are you in trouble for helping me?" His voice held notes of worry and distress that didn't slip past Uragiri. It reminded her of a twelve year old Sakura, who'd been both pushy and stubborn when it came to the safety of her team mates. She couldn't help but giggle at the thought. _Even his scrunched up face is similar._

"_Maa maa_, Harry. Don't Worry. We'll still be training you." Uragiri reassured him with a thump on his back. "Dumbledore and the Commander have come to an... ultimatum. I'm sure you'll like it."

Harry gave her a blank look. "But what is it?"

"I'm not allowed to talk about it, but you'll know by time school starts. Now come on. I'm starving." That said, she shoved him through the door to the kitchen.

He'd expected it to be empty, but it was not. Inside were the tired faces of Mr and Mrs Weasley, Sirius, Lupin, and Tonks – all fully dressed as if they had been waiting for him. Mrs Weasley hurried the pair into seats, muttering about breakfast as she took out her wand to light the fire.

They exchanged pleasantries and chatted about the Ministry and the day ahead. Harry was marginally less nervous about the whole affair now that Uragiri was back, and she had told him that she would be accompanying him and Mr Weasley to the trial, with the promise that she'd not let him be expelled.

"Give him what I'm having please, Molly-san. He'll need it today." Uragiri called

"Right you are, dearie. You can never go to such things on an empty stomach!"

Harry groaned. "I don't think I can stomach food right now. You know, with the possibility of expulsion looming over head." Snape was a face he could do without, but not Ron or Hermione's. He'd never be able to play quidditch for Griffindor again. The look on Mrs Weasley's face said that she was not happy with his train of thought. Neither was Uragiri, for that matter.

"Stop it." She said, exasperated. "You're _not _going to be expelled." There was nothing but absolute certainty in her voice, but it didn't stop Harry from doubting her. She couldn't possibly understand. The Ministry was out for his blood.

"Not even you could possibly know that." He pointed out as Mrs Weasley parked a plate stacked with eggs, bacon, tomatoes, sausages and toast. He noticed that she was looking at the shinobi with a mixture of wariness and interest.

Uragiri picked up her fork, studying her food before she answered. "Do you know what an inhibitor is Harry?"

He shook his head.

"It's a substance that slows down a reaction. Sometimes it slows down the reaction enough that an end product never actually occurs. In your case, the Ministry is one chemical, and Voldemort and his Death Munchers are another."

"It's 'Death Eaters." He corrected.

"Whatever. The point is, the Ministry needs you in the mix, as an inhibitor, so that the two chemicals never mix or react to each other. If they expel you, and war breaks out, you won't be there to stop it, _him, _again. So they have to keep you." She said simply, oblivious to the stares of awe from the gathered wizards.

Sirius looked to be considering Uragiri's words, while Lupin and Tonks looked as though they were sceptical.

"I'm not sure if they'll see it that way. He did break the law, after all." Mr. Weasley coughed. "Though I'm sure you'll be fine Harry, in a few hours this will all be over and you'll be cleared."

Uragiri stood from the table, thanking Mrs Weasley again for the breakfast before turning to Harry. "I have to meet Dumbledore again Harry, but just be yourself and you'll be fine. Remember, underneath the underneath and all that, ne?"

* * *

"You're late."

"Sorry," Harry said unapologetically. He wasn't nervous, or as nervous as he should of been. Tora had been the one to tell him that nervousness on the battlefield was a blatant death wish and if anything was a battlefield Harry decided it would be this dungeon of a room ruled by the Wizengamot. "I wasn't aware that the time was changed."

"That is not the Wizengamot's fault," said the voice coldly. It echoed loudly in the dark room, bouncing hollowly of the high stone benches. Basic scare tactics, Harry noticed, unimpressed.

Rob the defendant of his sight and distort the hearing, making it hard for the defendant to focus. Thankfully, Harry was aware of this and defeated it with steady breathing and a clear mind.

Warily, he took his seat in the middle of the room, raising an eyebrow when the chains along the arms jiggled at him threateningly. He drew his eyes around the room, counting just under fifty people, dressed in official robes adorned with a large silver 'W'. In the very middle stood Cornelius Fudge on his podium. He stared down at Harry mockingly.

"Disciplinary Hearing of the twelfth of August. Into offences committed by Harry James Potter, resident at number four, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey. Interrogators: Cornelius Oswald Fudge, Minister of Magic; Amelia Susan Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement; Dolores Jane Umbridge, Under Secretary to the Minister of Magic; Percy Ignatius Weasley -"

"Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. Witness for the defence."

Harry whipped round at the sound of the Headmaster's voice. A sense of relief tided over Harry at the sight of the old wizard in midnight blue robes assuming a calm expression. Despite being on the lower level, Albus Dumbledore stared down at Fudge through his bent half-moon glasses. There was a mixed reaction from the members of the Wizengamot. Only a few waved his way.

"Ah, Dumbledore." Stuttered Fudge. "You -ah- got our message that the -er- time and place of the hearing has been changed, then?" The Minister was plainly flustered.

"I'm afraid I must have missed it." Was Dumbledore's cheerful answer. "But by a happy mistake, I arrived at the Ministry three hours early."

He took centre stage. "Charges?" He asked Fudge, who was quick to produce the appropriate papers to read aloud to the court. He sat up stiffly in his chair, pinning Harry with his gaze.

"The charges against the accused are as follows: That he did knowingly and in full awareness of the illegality of his actions, produce a Patronus Charm in the presence of a Muggle." He looked sceptically at the boy before him. "Do you deny having produced said Patronus?"

Harry shook his head vehemently. "No, but-"

"And you were aware that you were forbidden to use such magic, outside of school?"

"Yes, I was. But-"

"Witches and wizards of the Wizengamot-"

Harry felt his temper quickly slip away. "I was only doing it because of the dementors!" He hollered.

There was a brief prelude of dense silence before the court exploded into hushed discussion. Many threw him looks of wariness and disbelief.

"Dementors? In Little Whinging?" Questioned Madam Bones. Her thick eyebrows were nearly touching her hairline, her eyes so wide that Harry thought that her monocle might just fall out of place and on to the floor before him. "I don't understand-"

"Really now, Amelia. This boy is very clever." Fudge hummed, smirking as if he were a cat ready to pounce. "Very nice cover story there indeed. You see, Muggles can't see dementors, can they boy? Very convenient that we only have your word and no witnesses..." He trailed off, looking towards his fellow peers.

It was quite obvious that the Minister was quite chuffed, as he leered down at Harry.

Right up until he was not.

Dumbledore took stage again, clearing his throat as he did so. The Wizengamot fell into a dead silence again.

"Actually, Minister, we do in fact have a witness to the presence of the dementors in Little Whinging. Other than Dudley Dursley, obviously." Fudge's head visibly deflated, and his posture sagged as if he were a kicked sack of potatoes. He was silent for a moment or two while he pulled his thoughts together.

"We don't have the time to listen to what I'm sure are well rehearsed tirades. I want this to be dealt with quickly. I'm a very busy man-"

"I could be wrong, but under the Charter of Rights, which is frequently reviewed and signed by yourself, Minister, that the accused has the right to procure witnesses for his or her case? Isn't that true Madam Bones?" Dumbledore gave her a sincere look.

"It's true." She said. "Very true."

"Oh very well," snapped Fudge. "Where is this person? Bring them in."

"I brought her in with me – she's just outside of the door," answered Dumbledore. "Should I get her, or?"

"No no, Weasley. You go." The Minister barked at Percy, who scrambled to the door to let the witness in without so much as a glance at Dumbledore or Harry.

A second chair was conjured and the woman was seated. Harry almost had to look twice. _Uragiri. _There was no mistaking the lithe frame and subtle grace a shinobi had, even if this one was wearing the face of the woman from the Asian grocery store in Little Whinging, one that Uragiri had borrowed before to buy supplies in the town_. _She fixed her brown eyes on Harry, giving him a reassuring nod and a sly wink. He felt safer with her with him in this room full of vultures. She was so easily confident and unwavering_._

"Full name, and who exactly are you?" Fudge demanded, though it was clear that he too, was intrigued by her foreign looks and elegance.

"Where I'm from I answer to Uragiri. No other name."

"There are no rules against submitting a single name for transcript," said Madam Bones. "But for further analysis, we'll need your full name and your place of residence."

"You won't be able to find anything, I'm afraid. I'm from the Hidden Continent. Commonly known as the Elemental Continent in your world. Uragiri is the only name I can give to those who are neither my employer or the Hokage." She murmured. "I can give you the promise that what I say is nothing but the full truth, though."

Fudge wasn't having any of it. He scoffed, as if this were the most ridiculous he'd ever heard.

"The Elemental Continent you say? The Ministry haven't had contact with them in nearly sixty years. The thought of one here is absolutely preposterous."

There was confusion among the ranks of the Wizengamot, the name of her home did not ring many bells, but it was clear that Fudge and a few others knew of it. There was a deep unease among those who had heard of it. It was almost as if they were genuinely frightened to be within her presence, a reaction that interested Harry greatly. He hadn't known that Shinobi had been to England before, especially Magical England. Harry made a note to question her about it later.

There was a dangerous flash in Uragiri's eyes. "The first and only time, and for good reason." She reminded him. "But needless to say, we're not here to discuss me or whereabouts I come from. We are here for him" She jerked her head toward Harry, who was carefully studying the faces of those in the high podium.

"Be that as it may, we'll be keeping a close eye on you." Fudge sneered, eyeing her suspiciously, to which she replied with a raised brow that all but said 'good luck.'

"You'll leave your details with my assistant, Weasley, on the way out. Incidentally, can your kind see dementors? From my understanding, the native people in your country call themselves Shinobi, people who are neither Muggle or Wizard."

"Of course I can. They're very hard to miss." She said, dismissing the rest of the Minister's words. As a Shinobi operating on the Outside, she was allowed to give no details of her homeland or it's inhabitants, without consent directly from the Hokage himself. It also helped that she was riling up the man who was practically _bullying _her ward in a room full of adults, not that Harry looked too worried.

Fudge looked at her with raised eyebrows and flustered cheeks. "Very well." He said coolly. "Tell us your story."

"I was hired to ensure that no harm come to Harry. Physically, mentally or emotionally," she looked pointedly at the high podium. Then, without so much as a warning to her sudden drop in tone, she said, "And if necessary, eliminate anyone that might be a... risk to him."

There was a shared shiver throughout the Wizengamot at the cold words and dark stare she gave the Minister. No doubt they had caught the not-so-subtle threat.

"I can't see what might merit that young Harry here have a guard," said Fudge, swallowing thickly. "But please. Continue."

Neither Harry or Uragiri could believe that this was the man in charge of running an entire government. Was he _still _trying to discredit Harry?

"Naturally, I was accompanying him home from the park when we stumbled into his cousin in the alleyway. The boys had barely said anything when the there was a sudden chill in the air. Two of these dementors -huge, dark things that reek of death_ -_swooped into the alley. I felt very exposed, as if I were on the run and had only ever experienced tragedy after tragedy. Harry repelled one with a Patronus Charm, which I can't perform, so I took care of the other using my own methods. Neither of us were injured, and Dudley's memories of the event were replaced with those of a drunken party with friends. All three of us returned to Privet Drive without further event. No harm done."

"That's a very descriptive depiction there, for someone who supposedly has never experienced a dementor before." Madam Bones said, impressed. There were nods of agreement from others around her. Just maybe Harry might come out of this unscathed after all.

"_We _are the ones who decide whether or not there's harm done, thank you." Fudge said aggressively. "Do you expect me to believe that dementors just _wandered _into a Muggle suburb and just _happened _to come across a wizard?" The man snorted. "The odds of that are very, very small-"

"Well I don't think anyone believes that they were there by coincidence, Minister," Dumbledore said lightly. The witch to the right of the Minister twitch slightly, but everyone else was still and quiet, contemplating Dumbledore's words.

_Ahem._

The witch at the Minister's right side shifted forward in her seat, her face now unobscured by shadow to reveal a short, squat woman, with a wide froggish face. Her mouth sagged down to what would have been her neck, if she had any. A hideous velvet bow was smooshed into her short curls.

"The Chair recognises Dolores Jane Umbrige, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister." said Fudge.

She nodded her thanks to him and stood, leaning her vertically challenged body of the edge of her bench.

The woman spoke with such a girlish, nails-on-chalkboard voice that both Harry and Uragiri were taken aback. They'd both been expecting a throaty croak.

"I'm sorry, Professor, but I'm sure I misunderstood you. Dementors are, of course, directly under the control of the Ministry of Magic and, this is so silly of me, but it sounded as if you were suggesting that the _Ministry _had ordered the attack on this boy." She gave a shrill laugh, that rubbed the two of them the wrong way. A few of the court joined in. It was clear that not one of them were amused.

"If it is true that the dementors answer only to the Ministry of Magic, and it is also true that Harry, his cousin, and his guard were attacked a week ago, then it makes sense to assume that someone within the Ministry ordered the attack. Disturbing news indeed," Dumbledore smiled politely. "Of course, these particular dementors may have been outside of the Ministry's control-"

"There are no dementors outside of Ministry control!" Exploded Fudge. His hands gripped the edge of his stand so tightly that his knuckles were now bone white.

Dumbledore made a sweeping gesture and shrugged. "Then no doubt the Ministry will be launching a full investigation as to why two dementors were so far away from Azkaban, and why they attacked a Wizarding hero without reason or authorization."

"It is not for you to decide what the Ministry should or should not do, Dumbledore!" Fudge snapped harshly. His frame shook with his rage, his entire face turned a sickening shade of purple that would have made Vernon proud.

"Of course it isn't," Dumbledore agreed coolly. "I was merely expressing my confidence that this matter will not go on untouched." He glanced at Madam Bones, who shifted in her seat uncomfortably, staring back at him with a frown on her face.

"I would like to remind everyone present that the behavior of these dementors, if they are not figments of this boy's imagination, is not the subject of this hearing!"

Uragiri cleared her throat. "Excuse me, Mr Minister?" She called. There was an innocent-looking scroll in her hand, which Harry recognised immediately, his eyes widening in surprise.

"What now?" Fudge sneered down at her, but she was undeterred. She casually unfurled the scroll with a flourish to show the advanced sealing matrix within. The Wizengamot stared at it curiously.

"I was just going to ask, if these creatures are figments of Harry's imagination, then what is this?"

And with that, she released the seal.

* * *

"Cleared of all charges!" Harry whooped, flopping down next to Ron and Hermione at the kitchen table.

"I knew it!" Ron punched the air, grinning fiercely. "You always get away with stuff!"

"Ron!" Hermione chastised "Weren't you listening to anything he said? An unidentified, non-wizard, released a dangerous dark creature-"

"That the Ministry controls-" Harry pointed out, but Hermione was in lecture mode and steam-rolled right over him.

"-In the presence of the Minister and his high court! I wouldn't be surprised if her name's already being dragged through the mud in The Daily Prophet. She'll be public enemy number one, if she isn't already. She'll be hunted by the ministry for being a threat." Her words humbled the Weasley twins and Ginny, who had been ready to be to pull out a victory dance.

Mrs Weasley wiped her face on her apron in worry. She'd didn't mean to, but she had become quite attached to the younger woman. Maybe it was that her hair was as stark red as her own, Mrs Weasley wasn't sure, but she was starting to see the younger woman as family. Goodness knew Uragiri had a bleeding heart a country wide, and had become fiercely protective of the gang of Weasley's and the others herself, something Molly respected and adored. She wouldn't know what to do if Uragiri was hurt for protecting her black-haired son.

"It was planned like this." Said a voice in the corner. Everyone turned to Tora, who had tiredly slumped down in the end chair during all the commotion. He'd been scarce for a while too, in fact, this was the first time he'd been back for a meal in days.

At their questioning looks explained. "You've all been busy so I'm not sure if you have seen the paper recently. The Ministry is adamant that Oro-, sorry, Voldemort couldn't possibly be back. However, Dumbledore wouldn't stand for it. Naturally, they have created a campaign of propaganda and misinformation about both of you. According to the Ministry, you're an attention seeking liar, a thrill-junkie and in love with being famous. Dumbledore is senile and is being scrutinized as "too old" to be as politically powerful as he is."

It was Uragiri's suggestion that she directly challenge the Ministry in front of the Wizengamot and the press in order to make witches and wizards think for themselves about the situation. It also takes the heat off you and Dumbledore too."

"She—you guys – did all of that for me?" Came Harry's answer. He felt shy gratitude. Not many put themselves in the line of fire for Harry and the two that did were dead. She had done it so casually too, without fear or hesitation.

Tora turned in his seat to face him. "Of course we would Harry. You're not just a mission to us, you're a person, a friend." He paused for a bit before he softly added, "a comrade."

"Did Uragiri tell you that we ran into Lucius Malfoy at the Ministry?" Mr Weasley asked Tora suddenly who nodded his head in acknowledgement.

"She's already sorting it. Dumbledore knows too. You shouldn't have to worry about him."

"What?" Sirius said sharply. He didn't like the Malfoy's, but Lucius was the worst snake of the lot. If he was involved, something must be going down and almost certainly it involved money and bribes.

"We saw him talking to Fudge on level nine, then they went up to Fudge's office together." Mr Weasley explained.

"When I get my hands on that bloody _Malfoy._" Sirius hissed.

"It's fine." Tora said calmly. "Ookami-taichou said that Uragiri was allowed to make sure that nothing comes of it." At this Sirius nodded, somewhat satisfied. Although he had not initially trusted these foreign wizards, they had all proven themselves worthy of his godson and his respect. Especially after this stint at the hearing. Speaking of...

"Will she be alright, that girl? After what she did in the Ministry, I mean."

"No." Came the abrupt reply from the doorway. There, the commander stood. His tall frame monopolized the space as he leaned against the door frame, arms crossed. Besides Tora and Lupin, they had not heard him enter, and his sudden presence startled them.

"Hermione was correct." Tora agreed. "The Minister, or Ministry I should say, won't stop looking for Uragiri until she's found." At their aghast looks he quickly continued. "Thankfully, we've a way to circumvent that very easily."

"And what would that be?" Ron asked, staring at the two dumbly; eyes squinted.

Ookami took a seat next to Tora, while Mr Weasley excused himself to fix a toilet issue at the Ministry. The commander gestured for Tora to explain.

"Your Ministry is looking for a Shinobi called Uragiri. If they were to contact the Elemental Continent, which is where we're from, they would come up empty handed simply because we do not hand out information about any Shinobi unless you're employing them. Even then, it is very rare for information on high ranking operatives to be dished out, for the safety of both the village and the operatives themselves."

"Right!" Hermione spoke up, eyes wide and excited. "So next they'll post her name and picture in the paper, probably with a bounty." She looked at the two Shinobi who nodded in approval and gestured for her to continue, which she did.

"Except, they'll post the picture of Uragiri, but not with her real face. Normally, the wards within the Ministry would disrupt simple glamours, but she used a _Henge, _and she wouldn't know how to make a Polyjuice potion_. _They'll be looking for a dark haired Shinobi, when Uragiri actually has bright red hair. They'll never find her."

"They wouldn't find her anyway. When she wants to hide, it might take even a skilled Shinobi _years _to find her. Isn't that right, Commander?" Tora said mildly.

"Ha-ha_, you're funny. And dead." _The man replied in Japanese, glaring heatedly at the Tiger-masked man, much to the confusion of the wizards around them.

* * *

**AND so that brings the end of another chapter. Thank you for everyone who read, favourited, followed and review this story, it's always appreciated. This chapter was getting so long I had to split it in half!**

**Feel free to leave a review or PM me what you thought of this chapter. This one came to me with surprising ease, so I'd love to hear your thoughts on it :) Especially the trial.**

**Updates will almost always be fortnightly from now on. **


End file.
